


Cozy

by nztina



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Inspired by Art, Sickeningly Sweet Fluff, two pumpkin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-14
Updated: 2021-01-14
Packaged: 2021-03-12 10:20:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 603
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28758714
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nztina/pseuds/nztina
Summary: Hermione comes home from work to her favourite person.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy
Comments: 18
Kudos: 163
Collections: The Dramione Collection





	Cozy

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Two_Pumpkin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Two_Pumpkin/gifts).



> Just a little drabble inspired by two-pumpkin’s gorgeous artwork, which you can find [here!](https://two-pumpkin.tumblr.com/post/640303548317532160/she-love-sleeping-on-him)
> 
> I wrote it during my morning break and it’s unbeta-ed so apologies for any mistakes.

“Love?”

Draco sighed. She was still asleep.

Hermione Granger was a good, decent witch. She was brave and talented, fiercely loyal, and she constantly fought for change to outdated magical legislation. She was respected and revered at the Ministry and couldn't walk down the streets of Wizarding London without at least ten people coming up to shake her hand. When she went back to Hogwarts to speak to graduating classes, she would often be mobbed by students who were desperate for her autograph. 

All of this was fine, and Draco was happy to watch his witch shine in the sun from his place in the shadows, because when she came home, he had her to himself. He was proud of Hermione but he knew she worked herself too hard so, over the years, he developed a routine to make sure her evenings were a calm contrast to her work days. 

Draco worked from the lab they had set up in the office so he was always ready with a cup of tea when she stepped through the Floo. Tonight, she had sent an owl to let him know she’d be an hour late.

He waited for her with a book, sitting on the floor beside the coffee table. Twenty minutes ago, she had arrived home, throwing back the proffered tea like it was a double shot of Firewhisky. He barely had time to say hello before she transfigured her blazer into a sweatshirt and vanished her trousers, climbing into his lap. 

Which is where she was now. Sleeping.

“Love,” he tried again, gently squeezing her waist, “why don’t you eat first and then you can go to sleep properly?”

He felt her shift against him, her nose digging into his shoulder. 

“Mnnnnghhh.”

Draco started stroking his hand down the length of her back, letting his fingers press against the ladder of her spine.

“Granger, come on.”

“It’s...Malfoy, now,” a lethargic voice corrected. “Don’t you…’member?”

He chuckled. “Yes, I remember. It’s been three years, how could I forget?”

“Mmmmmm…good. That’s good.”

“Alright,  _ Mrs Malfoy _ , won’t you please get up so I can give you a nice dinner and get you into our bed?”

“No.”

“No?”

“I like it here.”

“In the sitting room? We can eat in here if you’d like.”

“ _ No _ ,” Hermione shifted again, turning so her face was buried into Draco’s neck, “I like it here with  _ you _ . It’s cozy. You smell good.” 

He felt her hand creep up to the back of his neck, her delicate fingers sifting through the fine hairs there. 

“Bad day?” 

“Sort of.” 

“Yeah?”

“Just too busy.”

They sat in silence and Draco focused on Hermione’s soft breathing.

“What did you make?”

“For dinner? Grilled chicken with lemon and garlic, and mashed potatoes. Mother dropped off some of the asparagus she’s been growing so I grilled that, too, with the balsamic glaze you like.”

He felt her smile against his throat. 

“Sounds heavenly.”

“What do you want to do now?”

“Can we sit here? Just for a while more? Then we can have that lovely dinner.”

Draco reached for a book with the hand not curled around his wife’s waist, and deftly opened it to his bookmarked page. 

“Sleep, love. I’ll wake you to eat in a little while.”

“Did I ever tell you how much I love you?”

Smiling as he turned the page, he murmured, “You may have mentioned it once or twice.”

“Well, I’m mentioning it a third time. I love you.”

“Love you, too.”

They both fell asleep within ten minutes and ate their dinner for breakfast the next day.

  



End file.
